


Space Twins

by witchee_writer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Also mentions of Cherik cause they're basically married and I couldn't help myself, Angst, Episode 9 fix-it cause I just want space twins, Fix-It, Gen, Grieving, Just let Wanda have someone jeez, Loss, Sibling Bonding, Siblings Across The Multiverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchee_writer/pseuds/witchee_writer
Summary: Peter wasn't her brother, not in this universe, but he was the brother to some version of her, in a world where mutants exist and she was the one taken away from him. They didn't know if this was the universe just giving them a freebie, but whatever it was, Wanda was going to take it. She had lost enough, she couldn't lose anything else.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Peter Maximoff
Comments: 49
Kudos: 436





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I still liked the finale, and Wanda was a bad-ass and her new costume is aMAZING. But I desperately just wanted some form of the Maximoff twins. I have now lost two speedy bois and my brain does not accept. Sure, we'll get Minimoff's in Young Avengers, but I just wanted Wanda to have a brother again, even if it had to be across space and time. 
> 
> I took some liberties with Peter's character since they never mentioned Wanda except for in a deleted scene. I'm assuming she died sometime after Days of Future Past in that 10 year gap and he never told anyone. He's just been shouldering his pain all this time. 
> 
> Enjoy reading!

She saw him, standing off to the side. Not too close that he'd be noticed, but not too far away that he wouldn't. Wanda bit her lip, looked away. There was something different about him now, something a little more serious. The question of who he was still remained, Monica said that he wasn't a resident of town, that they hadn't been able to find anything on him. All she said was that once she broke the spell that Agatha held over him he had started rambling about mutants and his Dad and a whole lot of things that didn't make any sense. Wanda glanced back at him, just once more. He held a drink in his hand now, where he'd gotten it she had no idea. Whoever he was, Wanda knew one thing, he wasn't her brother. 

She blinked and he stood in front of her. 

He might not have been her Pietro, but he was _someone_. Someone with powers that were the same, with hair tinted silver.

"You don't need to avoid me, you know," said the speedster, taking a loud, pointed slurp of his drink. 

"You're not my brother," said Wanda, her voice thick. 

He shook his head, "No, I don't think so. I- I don't really know what's going on, I remember being at the school, and then falling, and that purple witch lady doing something and then- and then it was like being in a dream. I can see all the things I did, the conversations we had, but it wasn't me, not really." He held his hand out, "I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Maximoff." Wanda sucked in a sharp breath of air, and Peter looked at her amused. "Same last name, I know. I'm pretty sure it says 'Pietro' on my birth certificate too but when my mother moved us to the States she changed it to Peter. It was just easier, she said. I'm not your brother, but, I think in another universe I might be." 

Wanda's head was spinning, she didn't understand, it didn't make sense. "What-"

"Because mutants don't exist here, at least no one I asked have heard of them. And no one knows who my Dad is and trust me, if they knew Magneto they wouldn't just forget him, he can be a bit of a super villain when the fancy hits him. He's eased up these days, too busy playing house with the Professor, which is fine, I'm happy for them. I don't really visit though, I haven't told my Dad he's actually my Dad and the Professor will know when he looks into my head, I know he will. I used to be able to hide it cause being in my head gave him a headache and-"

"Peter," interrupted Wanda, softly. 

He blinked, "Right, sorry, I'm rambling."

"It's okay, I'm- I'm used to it." And it hurt, because she was, because Pietro could often fall into the same tangents, his thoughts running off as fast as his legs could. "I'm sorry I took you away from your home." She could see Vision and the boys standing a little way ahead, ready to go home, ready for her to "make things right". She winced, just thinking about what would happen to them made tears spring up, made her heart clench- Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes somber.

"You don't need to be sorry, you've lost people, I get it." He smiled, wryly. "It wasn't all you, and you weren't the one controlling me. I just- I don't think I'm meant to be here Wanda. If there are alternate universes out there, I think I know why it was me that got dragged through, at least I have a theory. I- I had a sister too, you see. Her name was Wanda as well, _shocker_." Pain and hurt and loneliness flickered across his face. "She died a while ago. She lost control of her powers, the same as yours, but they call us mutants back home, our powers come from our genes, our father is a mutant too, a powerful one. Anyway, she lost control, destroyed the house, threw me to safety before the whole thing came down on top of her." He shuddered. "I could have saved her, in the blink of an eye I could have grabbed her and run but- but I think she was afraid she would hurt me too." He shook his head, wiping his eyes quickly. "It never really gets better, losing a twin. I won't lie and say that it does but maybe- maybe that's why it was me that Agnes managed to call through. Both of us lost our other halves, maybe the universe was trying to correct." 

Wanda couldn't stop the tears in her eyes now, couldn't stop them from spilling down her face. "Peter..." 

"I don't know," he said, quickly. "I just- it kind of makes sense doesn't it? We're not really siblings, but we're kind of like... space twins?" 

Peter Maximoff wasn't her brother, but she hugged him like he was anyway. Because he understood, he was the only one that understood, even if they belonged in different worlds. "I miss him," Wanda choked out, "And this- none of this is real, and-" 

"I know," said Peter, softly. "I do. But Wanda, your powers _alter reality_ , whose to say what's real and what isn't?" His eyes flickered over to the boys, to Billy and Tommy watching them warily. "It'll be okay."

"You don't know that, you can't." 

"No, but your husband, and I'll be honest I still can't wrap my head around that, seems to think you'll make things right, and I know you can, you're capable of anything." 

Wanda pulled away, and Peter brushed some of the tears from her cheeks, held her face between his hands gently. "I'm sorry I attacked you at Halloween, at least," she said. 

Peter laughed, his eyes shining. "Not the first time I've been on the other end of your magic, Wands." He glanced over her shoulder, at her family waiting for her. "You have something you need to do, but I think the only way I'll get home is if we stick together. You might not be the sister I miss every second of every day, and I might not be the brother you grieve, but we're still siblings, kind of, I think. Can I- well, do you mind if I wait for you when this is... when you finish what you have to finish?" 

"How do you know you'll still be here?" 

"Because I was brought here with magic far more powerful then just this bubble you've created, I'm real, I just don't belong here."

"I won't stay in Westview," warned Wanda, shaking her head. "I can't, not when-" 

"I know, that's okay, I'll go where you go, little sister." Peter paused, thoughtfully. "I'm still older, right? By tw-"

"Twelve minutes," finished Wanda. "Yes, yes you are." She gave him a watery smile and Peter leaned down, pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

"I'll be here when you're done." 

* * *

Wanda could have cried when Peter appeared, when he looked between her and the empty plot and held his hand out. He wasn't Pietro, and she wasn't his Wanda, but they were all each other had. The idea that he was from another universe didn't seem real, but Wanda knew when to trust her gut, and she knew she had believed every word that Peter had said. They said that alternate timelines existed out there, that one had already been created with the failed retrieval of the space stone and another had been created when Steve had stayed in the past. Wanda knew, without a doubt that it was possible but most of all, it felt right, it felt like they had a connection that spread across the universes. A part of her wondered how Pietro would have reacted to seeing a mirror of himself, the same, but so very different. He probably would have hated it. 

But Pietro was gone, and Peter was all she had left. Wanda had already had to say goodbye to enough, it would have hurt all the more to have to have been alone all over again. A part of her had truly thought he would have disappeared, would have been sent back to whatever world he had been pulled from, but he was there, waiting for her to take his hand. Peter didn't belong here, she had to find a way to get him home and she would, but for now, she was just glad to have _someone_. Wanda took his hand, squeezed tightly. 

She didn't think anything would make the hurt go away, the hurt of losing Vision again, of losing the boys, of Pietro still being gone, but Peter made it a little easier to bear. 

"Thank you," she said.

Peter tilted his head to the side, "What for? I need you to get me home, remember?" He chuckled, "Besides, where else would I go?" Guilt flared inside her, and it must have shown on her face because Peter just pulled her closer, threw an arm over her shoulders. "It's okay, they probably haven't even noticed I'm gone yet. It hasn't been that long!" 

His throwaway comment didn't make her feel any better. He had mentioned parents, a school, how could they not have noticed he was gone? It had to have been a week at least, even if she could get him back to his universe, time would have passed. How could he not have been missed? How could he think he wouldn't be? 

"Peter-" 

He shook his head, "Don't look so angry on my behalf, Wands. Me and people don't really mix that much, I'm too talkative, too fast, always leaving the school without telling anyone. Too much energy to stay in one place for long, they'll just think I've gone on an extra long trip somewhere." 

"Your mother-"

"Haven't spoken to her in years, she and my half-sister disappeared after Wanda-" He broke off suddenly, cleared his throat. "Mutants weren't getting a good name and Bianka likely doesn't have the mutant gene, so she and Mum left before the authorities put two and two together." 

"Your father-"

"Doesn't know he's my father cause I never told him." 

"But if he knew, he would be angry, he would want you back." 

Peter smiled at her, softly. "I'm not saying I want to stay, I do have friends there. I'm just saying you don't need to look so guilty, I don't mind keeping you company, at least for a little while. Come on-" He nudged her along. "SWORD, or the FBI, or whoever they are, are still all set up in the square." 

Wanda sighed, glanced back at the plot of land that had been her home. It hadn't been long, but it had been long enough. It had felt real, every brick, every wire, they had been her own. She had given birth to her children in that home, she had seen them grow (even if it had been in a matter of days). She couldn't say it was a surprise, the looks she received as she walked back into the square, but Wanda was too hurt to care, in too much pain to let it hurt her even more. Monica was one of the few, that did not look at her in fear. She had always been one of the few, Wanda had been a fool to think otherwise. 

Wanda had little trust in the government, she knew that given the chance they would want her locked up once more but she wouldn't give them the chance. She trusted Monica enough to change things for the better, Hayward had been dealt with, there were others too, that were good, that could be trusted. Wanda had power flowing inside her, she had to know what it meant, what it could do. It hadn't been Agatha that had created the world within Westview, that had been her. Peter said she had the ability to "change reality", it was time she learned how to harness that properly. She had to get him home, after all. 

The sirens rang in the background, and Peter practically vibrated next to her. Not in fear, but excitement. "Well? Where to now, sis?" said Peter, grinning. She had the feeling this wouldn't be the first time he had outrun the authorities.

Wanda glanced at him, "Have you ever been to Sokovia, Peter?" 

* * *

"Maybe there's a mutant that can cross the multiverse," said Wanda, glancing across the room at Peter. He was laid out on the couch, fixated on some kind of game he had stolen from Paris. They had settled in Sokovia, not far from where Wanda had insisted Pietro should be buried. It was quiet, abandoned, Pietro had often taken her there when they had needed to get away. Now, Wanda could walk to his grave and speak to him whenever she missed him too much. It wasn't the same as having him there with her, but it was something, it was familiar. Sometimes Peter would go with her too, rambling at speeds that only her brother would have been able to follow. 

Wanda knew that no one would find them out there, and it was what she wanted. A place to be at peace, to learn, to grow, to get _stronger_. It had been a little over a month, and they still had a way to go. Wanda had heard the voices of her children, out there somewhere, wandering, lost. She had heard the voice of a man calling for Peter, a warmth in her mind, before she had shoved it away. Peter said it had to have been the Professor, Charles Xavier. In his world, he was a telepath, one of the most powerful brains on the planet. Wanda had tried to find his voice again, but had yet to succeed. 

If Peter was anxious to return home, he didn't say anything. Wanda was more grateful for his company then anything else. She told him stories of her childhood, and he had told her stories of his. She had told him of the Avengers, as he had told her of the X-Men. He wasn't always there, neither Peter nor Pietro had ever been able to sit still for long. They needed to move, needed to do something. Wanda had to create a whole extra room for the souvenirs Peter bought back from his travels. She didn't mind, this simple, easy life wasn't made for someone like Peter but for her, he endured it. 

"There's mutants that can teleport, it's possible there's someone out there that can cross universes," said Peter, "But if there is I haven't heard of them." 

"Maybe Charles has found a way to find you," suggested Wanda, placing herself down next to him. She pushed a glass of water into his hand, and he drank half of it without missing a step in his game. 

"Maybe, he's probably too distracted with my dad in Genosha." Peter pulled a face, a shudder going through him. "I don't want to think about my Dad and the Professor. I said those two were hooking up, but no one believed me. The Professor actually punched him when I broke him out of the White House facility and he's the least violent person I know." 

"And that means they're hooking up?" said Wanda, with a raised an eyebrow. 

"Of course, it's all about the sexual tension." 

She rolled her eyes. It wasn't the first time they had talked about such things, if the Avengers facility had still existed she would have liked to have gone to Bruce, asked him to look for the kind of gene that Peter had. Perhaps it did exist here, it was just that no one knew about it yet. Agatha herself had said that Wanda had had abilities when she was younger, but Pietro was the same. He had moved them so quickly after the bomb had crashed into their home, she hadn't thought about it at the time. Perhaps it wasn't witchcraft at all, but a mutation. She shook her head, it didn't matter. Wanda hoped that maybe one day she would meet Charles Xavier, that he might be able to unlock some of the answers to her questions. Peter seemed to think he would. His greatest regret was that he hadn't searched for him earlier, hadn't taken his Wanda to the school to learn to control her abilities. It hadn't helped Jean Grey, but perhaps it might have helped his sister. 

And his Dad, maybe he could have helped her too. If he had known, if Peter had said something earlier, maybe he could have stopped whatever had happened to Wanda from happening. He seemed less sure about that, but Wanda knew he wanted to tell him, wanted to have the chance to tell him the truth, even if nothing came of it. 

"I'll find a way to get you home," said Wanda, firmly. 

Peter glanced at her, a grin tugging at his lips. "I know you will, you're the Scarlet Witch." 

Wanda rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at him, "Oh, shut up." 

Peter laughed, and Wanda eyed him, fondly. He said he wanted her there when Peter told them, told his father and the Professor who he really was. He wanted to do it the moment he got home, before he lost his nerve. She didn't understand why he was so afraid, she couldn't read minds, but to Peter, Magneto stood as a tall, intimidating presence ("You haven't seen the things he's done, Wanda!"). If it was what he needed though, she would do it. She would get him home, and she would stand at his side as he confessed who he really was. If Erik Lensherr didn't like it, then Wanda would blast him across the room and Peter could come back with her. She didn't care if it screwed up the multiverse, those above had done that already by taking away the ones they loved the most. 

"Do you want to try searching for the Professor again?" Wanda asked. She found it easier, if he helped, if she focused on him, his energy. They were getting closer every time, she was certain of it. 

"If you're feeling up to it," said Peter. His eyes flickered to her bedroom, the red glow emanating from it. Wanda had been trying to keep her astral projection active as long as she could, all day and all night. Peter worried she was tiring herself out, but it was easier now then it had been before. 

She smiled, getting to her feet and holding her hands out. "Come on space twin, let's try and find your future step-Dad again."

Peter took her hands and let her help him up. "God, now I've got a weird image in my head of them getting married. Which would be fine, I'm not against it, except the Professor is wearing a wedding dress and- oh god, we can't look for him now. What if we find him? That's the first thing he'll see, Wanda!" 

Wanda laughed, even as Peter half-heartedly resisted her pulling him along. "Wanda no, we can't," Peter whined. "He'll see everything, it'll be so embarrassing." 

"I'm sure he'll just be glad you're safe," she said, soothingly. 

"You know what? Let's try tomorrow instead? Do you want dinner? I'll go get us dinner? What do you think about pizza? I'll get it, there's a good place in Rome, be right back!" And then he was gone, the door swinging in the wind. Wanda chuckled, closing it behind him with a wave of her magic. 

Some days were harder then others, she wouldn't deny it. There would always be days that she struggled, she had lost too much for that not to be the case but at least she had been given something back, at least she had Peter around to bear some of the load. He shouldn't have had too, and there were days she felt so guilty about it she couldn't stand to look at him. But Peter- he didn't resent her. It wasn't her fault, he told her, over and over again. He didn't blame her, he would never blame her. For as much as Wanda needed this, Peter did too. He'd had to deal with his grief alone, telling no one of the sister he had lost, of the pain and guilt he felt. He needed this too, she knew he did, could see it in the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. The loss of his Wanda had broken him, it was just that no one knew it, that he'd been running from it all this time. 

The door slammed open and a box of pizza and set of plates were on the table before she could even open her mouth to say anything. "Sorry I took so long," said Peter, "There was a line." 

Wanda smiled, "It's alright," she said. "I'll forgive you." 

Peter grinned. 

Wanda shook her head, and settled in the seat across from him. 

If this was the universe trying to make up for what it had taken from them, then they would take it. 

If it made them hurt a little less, then that was all that mattered. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hates being sick, but it isn't so bad when Wanda is there to look after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, GUYS, the response to this in the last day or so has been amazing. To everyone that commented, thank you so much. I never reply but know that you guys are fabulous and every comment just made me so happy!!! This story was intended to be a one-shot, but all the love made me inspired to write more. These will just be moments of Wanda and Peter living together, little one-shots within a one-shot you could say. A part of me worries that I should just keep it as the one, fabulous chapter but I felt like I should write more so I am. I hope it's okay! Thank you for all the support!

"Here, drink this," said Wanda, sending a steaming hot bowl of soup floating his way. The smell alone cleared his nose as Peter sat up to grasp it. "Slowly!" Wanda shouted, suddenly, just as Peter was about to take a sip. 

He glared at her, half-heartedly. "I know," he grumbled. Peter did use his brain on occasion, though admittedly not as often as some people might have liked. It wasn't his fault he was sick (it was, he was the one that had been running up the mountains with bad weather rolling in). He hardly ever got sick, his immune system worked too fast. It swept in and neutralized the threat before Peter even got a hint of the sniffles. But sometimes, sometimes there was something that got through. He wanted to blame it on being in an alternate universe, blame the air, or the germs, but he didn't. 

He knew it would make Wanda feel guilty. 

Peter took a sip of soup, the liquid soothing his raw throat. He let out a hum of content, it tasted as good as it felt too. Wanda pressed the back of her hand to his head, a frown pulling at her lips, "You still have a fever." 

She worried for him, he knew. Peter had been running a fever for days, lying miserable on the couch or on his bed or wherever he decided to collapse, rolling himself in blankets (or throwing them off when he felt too hot). He tried to tell her that it would pass, that it was just the flu. This wasn't the first time he had been sick after all, but Wanda couldn't help but worry. Worry that it was some kind of symptom of being in the wrong universe, worry that it would get worse and she wouldn't be able to do anything. She fussed over him more then his mother ever had, but Peter wasn't surprised. His Wanda would have done the same thing, had done so in the past. They were memories he had pushed far to the back of his mind, the loss too difficult to bear some days. It wasn't so bad now that he had this Wanda, reminding him of all the good his sister had done and been for him. 

She knew what it meant to lose a twin, to lose someone that was essentially half of who you were. Peter had shoved it as far back in his mind that it would go because it had just been easier but it didn't hurt as much to talk about now. He could think of Wanda, his Wanda, waiting for him in his room as if she knew he was up to trouble and wanted to make sure he was okay, his Wanda fussing over him as he whined about how sore his throat was, his Wanda in general. 

Peter liked to think he had made it a little easier for this Wanda to think about her Pietro too. 

He thought he had, it felt like he had. She spoke of him more often now, there wasn't always pain in her eyes when she did so. She could joke of him, mention him in passing without looking like the world had ended. 

"I'm fine," said Peter, his voice hoarse. "Really, I've had worse." 

"You've been complaining non-stop the entire time," reminded Wanda, shaking her head. She took the half empty bowl of soup from his hands, summoned a glass of water without looking. Her magic came to her easier than ever now, as if it were second nature. She didn't have to look, she didn't have to think about it, Peter was proud of her. It hadn't been that long since Westview, but she had gotten so much stronger, or perhaps it was just confidence. She didn't have to live in fear out here, there was no one that would look at her with suspicion, that would judge and demean her. It was just her and Peter, and Peter thought what she did was amazing. 

He always had. 

"Drink," said Wanda, softly. Peter didn't argue with her, didn't bother. If it made her feel better to mother him, then he wasn't about to stop her (wasn't about to mention it either, knowing how much it hurt her to have lost her children). "Better?" 

"A little," said Peter. "My throat still feels like it's on fire though-" His voice broke, and he winced. "Why don't you practice some kind of witchy potion on me? Surely your creepy book has something that might help?" 

Wanda shook her head, "I don't want to risk it." 

Peter rolled his eyes, "Risk what? I trust you." 

Wanda looked at him, eyes wide, shining with tears she refused to let fall. He didn't think it was that much of a surprise at this point, he had told her enough that he had faith in her. Of course he did, she was his sister. 

"I thought you said you've had worse," teased Wanda, even if her voice was a little thicker than usual. 

"Yeah, but if you have a magic cure-all potion, I'm not going to say no, am I?" 

Wanda chuckled, "Drink," she said, "You need to keep up your fluids."

Peter winced as the water did nothing to soothe his irritated throat. He reached for the soup and Wanda let him take it, that at least was easy to get down. It was hot, too hot. Everything felt hot, but that was what a fever did, he supposed. Wanda pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and returned to the kitchen. Peter watched through bleary eyes as she waved a hand and pots started to clean themselves, the kitchen a whirlpool of red magic before everything was away and clean. He hardly even noticed when Wanda came back and took the bowl from his hands, urged him to lie down and rest. She was right, he was exhausted. He hated being sick, he really did. Every time he closed his eyes he dreamed of home, he didn't know why.

He saw his Wanda, and his mother and Bianka. He wondered if they had ever thought of him, if they missed him? Surely his sister might have, he had only ever been good to her. Or maybe she feared him, he didn't think his mutation was that scary but it didn't take much to turn humans against them. Peter tried not to think about that too much, he had seen what fighting against humans had done to his father, the kinds of things he had done. He didn't know if peace was possible, the kind that the Professor had always dreamed of, but he liked the idea of it. He liked the idea of it much better than mutants ruling over humans, acting the superior race. 

His father must have come to see that too, after everything. Why else would he have retreated to Genosha? Why else would he have come to the Professor, offering up a safe haven, a home? Well, there were lots of reasons for that last one but most said it had something to do with their long-standing friendship. 

_Right_. 

Peter wondered if his friends missed him, if Scott or Ororo or Kurt had noticed he was gone. The school was still learning to function without the Professor, there was just so much to do. No one asked him to come back though, no one dared. Bad things had been said after- after everything. It hadn't seemed right, the Professor leaving. It was his school, his home, but it had happened and he seemed happier for it. He visited on occasion, Hank always asked him to stay, the Professor always refused. Peter wondered if he was there now, all of them looking for him, searching for him. 

Peter knew that he missed them. 

It was home, after all but... well, this was home too, wasn't it? It felt more like home then any other place had since his sister had died. It felt warm and safe and happy. That was a home, wasn't it? Was it bad that he felt more at home in this strange alternate universe then he did in his own? Was it bad that a part of him didn't want to go home? He had thought about it. He had thought about it a lot. Going home meant losing his sister again, going home meant Wanda losing her brother again, that wasn't fair, none of this was fair- 

"Shhh," said Wanda, soothingly. He heard her voice through the fog of his mind, the warmth of her magic calming his thoughts. "Sleep, Peter." 

He let out a breath, let himself drift off to the feel of Wanda's magic, to the heaviness of sleep overtaking him. Whatever else he had been thinking, it didn't matter. 

When he woke, sunlight was streaming through the windows. He was warm, but no longer burning hot. His nose was clear, his muscles didn't ache, the pain in his head was gone.

He grinned, running to the kitchen faster then he had in days, leaving a trail of blankets in his wake. He took a soda from the fridge and drank the can in one go, the liquid sailing down his throat smoothly. Finally, _finally_ , his immune system had kicked in. It took a while sometimes, once the sickness took hold but oh, when it did, it worked fast. 

He loved his mutation, he really did. 

Peter glanced over at Wanda, slumped down in a seat, clutching a pillow to her chest. She hadn't even bothered to astral project what with all the fussing over him she had been doing. Idiot, he had told her not to worry, that he would be fine. He moved across the room in a blink of an eye and covered her with a blanket. She noticed of course, staring up at him, sleepily. 

"Peter?" she murmured. 

"Sleep it off, sis. I'm feeling much better, hardly feel sick at all," said Peter. "I feel like I can run a marathon."

"Hardly a fair race," his sister muttered. 

Peter chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. "Must of been the soup, I guess you did some magic potion stuff after all." Wanda turned over in the chair, already drifting off again. Peter watched her, a smile on his face. He needed to stretch his legs, he had been out of action for too long. He wanted to run, feel the wind in his hair, watch the world speeding by. Wanda wouldn't notice, he would be back before she woke up with breakfast on the table and the best coffee he could find.

After everything she had done for him, she deserved that much. 

"Sleep well, Wands." 

And then he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda has a nightmare, Peter is there to wake her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really just trying to pump these out before I lose the will to keep going. I don't usually write chaptered stories, THEY'RE TOO MUCH PRESSURE. I have a bit of a plan though, it's looking to be about 8 chapters. Thanks for reading and supporting! It means the world to me!

It hurt, she couldn't do this again, she couldn't. Wanda didn't want to watch everyone leave her again. It didn't matter how much power she called on, she still felt it the moment Pietro's heart stopped beating, she still saw the light leave Vision's eyes. Wanda screamed, her magic swirling around her. 

It wasn't enough, it was never enough. 

_'Mom? Mom! Help us!' Billy cried._

_'Mom, please!' yelled Tommy, 'Mom!'_

_'I'm coming,'_ Wanda tried to shout, tried to tell them, but the words wouldn't come out. She choked, falling to her knees. Sometimes it was the rubble of her hometown, sometimes it was the dirt of Wakanda. It flickered from place to place, but the result was always the same. She was always left alone, her brother gone, her husband gone, her children gone. 

"Wanda!" 

"Wanda, wake up!" 

She shook her head, everything was too loud, too bright, she just wanted it to stop. Someone was calling her name, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered-

Something cold shocked her awake, and Wanda gasped, shooting upright. Her hair was dripping, her blankets and pillows were wet. She looked up at Peter, her mouth open wide. "Did you- did you just throw water on me?" she said, incredulously. Peter's hair was a mess, sticking up at all different angles. Wanda glanced around the room, noted the toppled furniture, the broken windows. Had she done that? 

Peter left and reappeared with a towel in hand, throwing it over her head. "You were screaming, you wouldn't wake up," he said, leaning back against the wall. His tone was light, casual, but his eyes were worried. "They're getting worse, Wanda." 

She winced, pressed the towel to her face (brushed away the tears that had threatened to fall). "I'm fine," Wanda said, "It was just a nightmare." 

"You're exhausted," snapped Peter, and she looked at him in surprise. "You practically collapse into bed and when the nightmares come, you lose control of your powers." There was no lightness in his voice now, it was stone hard. It didn't suit him, there was something wrong about him looking at her with his face cold, his eyes angry. The idea of her losing control would have hit a little too close to home for him, that was why he was reacting, that was why he was angry. Worried too, but she knew how much easier it was to feel angry first. "I know you want to find the boys, I know you want to get me home, but you need to rest too," he continued. "I don't want to see what happens if you don't." 

She blinked, and he had disappeared. Wanda heard the television start up, the cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen. She sighed, deeply. Wanda glanced around at the damage, much longer and she might have torn the entire house apart. Peter was right, but if anyone knew what it meant to run away from their problems, it was him. Working on her magic kept her distracted, gave her a purpose. If she didn't do that, what else was she meant to do? 

First thing was probably speak to Peter. 

Wanda swung herself out of bed and shuffled into the lounge room. She didn't bother with the damage, she could deal with that in the morning. If Peter heard her, he didn't say anything. Not as she sat down, not as she waited for him to look at her. Stubbornness must have been a trait of their family. He stared pointedly ahead, munching on a bag of chips. If it wasn't for the glazed look in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, she might have even thought everything was normal.

"Wanda always thought she was fine too," said Peter, his voice hard. 

She flinched, glancing down at her hands. Her fingers sparked with red magic, dancing in waves before she smothered it away. "Peter..." 

"I know that in this universe and every universe, you are the stronger of the two of us. I get that, but that doesn't mean you're always right, Wanda." He looked at her, "I don't care if I don't get home, I won't watch you die again." 

"You're right," said Wanda, softly. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat, "I- it's just easier to throw myself into my magic, to not have to think too much about anything else. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you of... of the past." 

Peter shook his head, relaxing ever so slightly. "Don't be sorry, you don't need to be sorry. You're allowed to have nightmares, you're allowed to feel crap, just know your limits, that's all. Know that when you tire yourself out day after day, you make it a hell of a lot easier to lose control of all the chaos you're throwing around." Peter sighed, and his face softened. "Just... be careful, Wanda." He held the bag of chips out to her, "Want some?" 

Wanda knew the conversation was done, that Peter didn't want to talk about it anymore. She couldn't blame him, she wouldn't have wanted to talk either. She took a few chips and sat back in her chair. He didn't look at her again, and Wanda didn't try and break the silence that had fallen over them. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't peaceful either. There was just that hint of tension and Wanda wasn't surprised to wake the next morning to Peter gone. 

She fixed the house, she read books on magic and sorcery, anything that Peter had stolen (or "found" as he told her often, even if she knew that "found" most likely meant in some kind of Sanctum and it was a miracle he hadn't been stopped yet). He had stayed away for days before, but that didn't make her any less anxious. 

What if something happened? What if he just didn't come back this time? 

It was usually right at that point, that Peter came back. 

He stood in the kitchen suddenly, rambling on about mutants, and the possibility of them existing in her world. The front door had barely even closed as he explained that he'd gone looking for anyone that might have had a familiar face, broke into some government facilities- it was hard to keep up with what he was saying, but Wanda managed. She sipped her coffee, nodded along despite the fact he had been gone three days, that he hadn't even said "good morning". 

It didn't matter, not really. 

"I'm starving," said Peter, his hands moving so fast she had to look away. When she looked again, he had a sandwich, already half-eaten. "Anyway, like I was saying-" 

Wanda smiled. 

She was glad he was back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Wanda's help, Peter manages to get a hold of someone from home. It doesn't go to plan, but when does anything ever go to plan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! I'm determined to get this done before Falcon and the Winter Soldier and I inevitably get distracted. I'm well on track to do that, I've written a few chapters ahead so we're looking good! Thank you for your continued support and kudos and comments and bookmarks and everything! It's amazing, you guys are the best!

_'Think of home,'_ said Wanda. _'Think about the school, and your friends, and the students.'_

Her voice sounded far away, and Peter tried to follow it. He felt a shove, the magic pushing him in the opposite direction. If he squinted he almost thought he could see it shaking it's head at him. Right, he was meant to be focusing. 

He took a breath, willed his knee to stop bouncing. That was the problem with trying to help Wanda find the right door, find the right path home, Peter wasn't very good at concentrating. He never had been, not when he was younger and not now. There was a reason he didn't teach at the school, he didn't have the patience. He would be as bad a teacher as he was a student. Scott called him their "unofficial PE teacher", because officially being called a teacher freaked Peter out, and they knew it (he did like running circles around the kids though). 

He smiled, fondly. 

He did miss home. He pictured it in his head, the mansion that Jean and his Dad (not that he knew that) had rebuilt brick by brick after it had been destroyed, the Professor watching off to the side. He saw the view out his window, the Professor hadn't hesitated to offer him a room, a home. He even turned a blind eye to all the things Peter brought into the mansion, though he must have known half of them were stolen. Peter could look out his window, see the water features in the pond, the rolling green grass, the trees that Scott didn't destroy during target practice. 

It was home. 

_'Peter? Peter is that you?'_

He looked around, eye wide, he knew that voice. Of course he did, he had heard it enough. _'Professor?'_ Peter's voice shook, and perhaps it was only then he realised _quite_ how much he had missed home. Wanda needed him, but no one else knew what he was, no one else thought his kind existed. He had been dragged into another universe, he had been controlled, he had been forced to face the loss of his sister which he had been doing a very good job of not thinking about. It had been a lot, and to finally hear the voice of someone he knew, of someone that knew _him_. 

Wanda's magic started to move, and it let him follow this time. He couldn't see home, he couldn't see the Professor, but it felt closer, it almost felt like he could reach out-

_'Are you alright? Are you hurt?'_ asked the Professor. _'It's been months, where are you? I can't- who else is there-'_

Wanda twitched, he felt it rather then saw it. He felt her hands tense, felt her force herself to relax, even as her magic threatened to lash out. He wondered if she felt the Professor trying to learn more, his telepathy nudging at their minds. It was new to Wanda, a threat even. The Professor was a threat, Peter wouldn't deny it, he was immeasurably powerful but only when he wanted to be.

_'You overestimate me, Peter,'_ said the Professor, softly. He must have been able to read his mind a little then, at least surface thoughts. _'Tell us where you are-'_

_'It's complicated, I'm not hurt, but- we can't- I don't think I can get back home, we've been trying but Wanda hasn't been able to find a doorway, or make one. It's the weirdest thing Professor, I never told you about my sister, did I? Well-'_

_'Later, Peter,'_ called Wanda. 

_'Peter where are you?'_ said the Professor, urgently. _'Tell us where you are.'_

_'I told you, it's hard to explain, it's like another universe, Professor- wait, are you back at the school?'_

_'Yes, I needed Cerebro to search for you but I haven't heard even a whisper since I first heard mention of you in Wanda's mind. Are you sure you're safe?'_

He knew he should have focused, he knew he shouldn't have let his mind wander but Peter couldn't help but think of who else the Professor might have been with, who surely would have gone with him back to the school if he'd asked. Hell, he probably would have flown them there himself. 

_'Yes,'_ said the Professor, _'Erik is here too.'_ And there was something in his voice, something that made all kinds of questions run through Peter's head. He hardly noticed the magic around him grow unstable, or feel Wanda's hands tighten their grip on his. He knew, didn't he? He definitely knew who Peter was, who his father was. Peter didn't want to panic, but he did. 

_'Peter,'_ said Wanda, warningly. She was losing the connection, she didn't need to say it for him to know. 

Peter tried to focus, he did, but all he could think about was his Dad, and him being disappointed. He was one of the strongest mutants in the world, Peter could just run fast. Really fast, so fast that time hardly seemed to matter, but that was about as good as it got. 

_'You saved an entire school of children from certain death, Peter,'_ said the Professor, firmly. _'He won't be disappointed in you, I promise. He'd be proud of you, so immensely proud as we all are.'_

Peter felt like he couldn't breathe, he thought he was ready, but he wasn't. What was the point of telling his Dad now? Peter was an adult, Wanda was gone. He'd already lost daughters hadn't he? It seemed cruel to take another away from him. Peter would be fine, he had lasted this long without a Dad hadn't he? Maybe if he just stayed-

_'Peter!'_ yelled the Professor, and he winced. _'Forget about all that, I can feel you getting further away, focus, focus on me, and the school. We're going to bring you home, okay?'_

_'But...'_

_'Erik doesn't know, and I won't tell him, not until you're home and not until you're ready. I just need you focus, Peter. We miss you, we're worried, we want you home but I need you to help me-'_

He closed his eyes, tried to take a deep breath, but it was getting too difficult. Peter thought about how he got there, what had happened in Westview, understanding who Wanda was. He thought it as loud as he could, hoped the Professor would get a good idea of what was going on at least. Maybe Hank could close the gap between their worlds, create a doorway that Wanda could latch onto with her magic. 

Peter knew they were losing the connection. The first time had been luck, the second had taken months to find again, who knew how long the third would take. Maybe they wouldn't be able to find it again at all.

_'Tell everyone I miss them,'_ said Peter, quickly. 

_'Pete, focus,'_ said Wanda, through gritted teeth. _'I can't-'_

Her magic exploded, the connection between universes snapping and throwing them all apart. Peter ended up in the kitchen cupboards, as Wanda hit the opposite wall hard. Both of them slid to the ground, breathing heavily. Peter hoped it was only violent on their end, and the Professor hadn't been thrown back too. The guy was in a wheelchair, that was hard enough as it was. 

Peter groaned, crawled out of the mess of wood and glass and china that had exploded on impact. "Wanda?" he called. 

She pushed herself up, brushed the hair from her face. He didn't know what he had expected from her, but he didn't think she would look quite as pleased as she did. He raised an eyebrow, and she grinned. "We are getting closer." Wanda waved her hand, and the cupboards fixed themselves, the mess they had left behind disappearing as if it had never happened. "I think I'll be able to find them again." 

"Finding them is one thing but getting home is a whole different ballgame," said Peter. He should have been excited, but he didn't feel excited. He felt- relieved. Relieved that they hadn't managed to finish the job, that he was still in their little cabin in a country that didn't exist in his world. A shot glass hovered in front of him, a bottle of vodka pouring itself into his and then another, that Wanda snatched out of the air. 

"To celebrate our success," she said, simply. Wanda threw back the shot in one go, and Peter followed suit. The liquid made him wince, it was strong, but he'd gotten a little more used to it now that he lived with Wanda. She preferred the stronger stuff. He felt her eyes on him, and he glanced up. "You're not happy?" It wasn't a question, not really. She knew he wasn't, could see it clearly on his face. 

"I just- going home means facing things I've been avoiding for a while," said Peter, tiredly.

"Your Dad." 

"Yeah, him mostly." 

Wanda sighed, placed her glass down to touch his arm. "I think your Professor is right, I think your Dad will be proud."

"Wanda-"

"No, listen to me," she said, a frown on her lips. "You think I am the strong one? But I believed Pietro, _you_ , to be stronger, I always have."

"He might have been-"

"No, both of you. My magic is powerful, but he was always so fast. You are even faster, you've had this power for so long. But your strength comes from who you are- you don't think you just do. You ran into an exploding building and saved an entire school? I once tried to save people, and I blew a building up instead. I killed people, Peter. My power- it is unstable, dangerous. Yours is grounded, I could never have done what you did. Not now, not before. I don't have the ability to slow time, to save lives that would otherwise be lost. But you do, and you do it without question." Wanda smiled, sadly. "Pietro grabbed me and threw me under the bed when the bomb hit out apartment, he never even had to think about. Pietro died protecting someone he hardly even knew, didn't even like actually. Clint and a child he had no relation too. You and he are the same, strong and brave and amazing." The tears slipped down her cheeks and she brushed them away, impatiently. "Maybe if he'd had more time to grow into his powers as I have, he would be as fast as you are now." 

"Maybe in another universe?" said Peter, reaching out to take her hand. 

Wanda smiled, shakily. "Maybe."

He sighed, "Thank you, Wanda." It had been a long time since someone had called him strong, brave. His Wanda might have, given the chance. She had said she needed him, that he made things easier for her, that he was the best twin she could have ever asked for. But brave? No, she hadn't gotten the chance to see him do things that were brave, to save children and fight battles. She would have said it though, he knew she would have. 

She wouldn't have let him believe anything else. 

She had been there the time he had broken their Dad out of prison though, or at least, she had been there _after_ when he had finally gotten home. She hadn't called him brave then, she had called him an idiot. Peter chuckled at the memory, a warmth rushing through him. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, anyway. 

Wanda eyed him, "We try again tomorrow," she said.

He nodded, "Yes, ma'am." 

It still left him breathless, it still terrified him to his bones, the idea of going home, of facing Magneto and the truth he'd always kept hidden. 

But Peter had to be brave. 

He could be brave (he had done it before, after all). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any of the mistakes I missed! And as ever, thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda goes with Peter on a trip into the city, it's no surprise that it brings up old memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, after this one I think there will be 3 chapters left, AT THIS STAGE. But I have a little plan and I can't see me diverging from it (not until Doctor Strange 2 anyway). Still, hope you enjoy! I'll try and keep up the daily updates but I can't guarantee. I'm working full-time now and my brain just wants sleep. Forgive me for any mistakes you might stumble across, my editing was half-hearted at best.

Peter placed bags after bags of food on the counter (at least half of them would be snacks). She never would have thought that they'd go through so much food, but Peter ate enough for three men alone (or one super soldier). Wanda didn't mind, she had enough money to cover it. They lived a simple life, the small fortune that Stark had left her upon his death was more then enough to get by. 

Tony had left them _all_ enough money to be comfortable (some more then others, Peter Parker had near fainted when he'd opened the envelope, but Tony had always treated him like the son he never had). As it turned out, Stark had planned ahead. 

The paperwork said it was their pay for being a part of the Avengers.

They all knew that was a lie. 

She hadn't thought about money after Thanos was defeated, it hadn't even occurred to her. Wanda had gone from the Compound, to travelling the world on the run, but even then it was Tony that had funded it. She had resented him for it too, she wouldn't allow him to pay off his sins. It was his weapons that had destroyed her life, both when she was younger and older, it was his beliefs that had seen her locked up in the middle of the ocean. But even when she refused it, he found a way to send it to her (paying off hotel rooms before she could leave, having Vision buy her clothes and food). Wanda didn't have it in her to stay resentful, not anymore. Besides, he had paid the way for all of them after the team had split. It had never been just about her.

Wanda often wondered what might have happened if he hadn't died (sacrificed himself). SWORD surely would never have been brave enough to tear Vision apart, to try and use him as a weapon. Stark probably thought the body was safest with them.

Before Haywood, he might have been right. 

She shook her head, moving her hands so that the shopping began to put itself away. Wanda hadn't spoken to Pepper Potts since the funeral, perhaps she should have. She of all people would have known that Tony wouldn't have wanted his tech to be used as a weapon, not like that, never like that. Ultron might have been the one to build Vision, but it had all come from the mind of Tony Stark in the end. She would have done something, she would have helped. 

Her, Clint, anyone. But Wanda had decided to go it alone, the Avengers had gone their separate ways after Thanos, mourning, learning to live again. She thought she was supposed to do the same, return to life without the Avengers, getting by on her own. It probably wasn't true, but it had felt like it. 

"Have you been into the city yet?" Peter asked, startling her from her thoughts. He stared at her, chewing on some kind of jerky. Wanda didn't answer. He knew she hadn't. That was the deal, he went to get the shopping, she put it away when he got back. Wanda hadn't been anywhere near the city she had been born in, the city she had grown up in. "It's thriving!" he continued. "Everyone was so nice, of course I had no idea what they were saying but they still seemed nice. Maybe if I had someone to show me around I'd enjoy it even more! You know how hard it is to buy groceries when you don't speak the language?" He pulled money out of his pocket. "I don't even know what any of this is called!"

Wanda sighed, "Do you want me to go with you to town tomorrow?" 

Peter grinned, wide and bright. It was almost enough to distract her from the dread that settled in her stomach. "Can we? It'll be much more fun with someone else there with me!" She knew what he was doing, but Wanda still found herself nodding. 

The morning came too fast, even if Wanda had spent all night glancing at the clock and it had hardly moved. Peter took one look at her face and offered to go another time, but Wanda had committed, she didn't want to pull out now. It wasn't just that Peter thought she should go, that she should see how much it had changed, it was that he wanted _her_ to show him the place she had grown up, her _home_. His home was across the universe somewhere, the least she could do was that much. 

It had changed, it had changed a lot.

The city was bustling with people, people that were fed and happy. There were no skirmishes on corners, no protests or outbreaks of violence. There were new shops on every corner, the streets were clean. Mothers walked their children down the street, the small parks were bright and filled with laughter. It was an entirely new city, but some things were still the same. The scents, the sounds, they were familiar, they sparked memories of when she was a child. Wanda could smell the food from the street vendors, she could hear Sokovian music drifting out of the cafes, folk artists performing. Peter walked along beside her, their arms linked, asking questions at a million miles an hour. 

It was nice. 

It still felt like home. 

She hadn't planned on tracing her way back to the older parts of the city, the poorer areas. There was no danger, no more then any other city. The building she and Pietro had once lived in was long gone (she had been in it when it was destroyed), but she still recognised the streets, the signs. There was the fence Pietro had once tried to jump, only to land flat on his face. There was the bridge that they used to sit on, watching the sun go down. 

"My father used to work there," said Wanda, quietly. Peter followed her gaze to the old steel works at the end of the road. That had survived the destruction over the years, albeit with some work done along the way. 

"Your father's name really wasn't Erik?" asked Peter, only half-joking. Wanda knew the things his father could do, his control over metal. It seemed a strange coincidence that her father worked with steel of all things. Then again, most men in the area did. 

"No," said Wanda, softly. Something tugged at her, a memory an old one. She frowned, it was distant, somewhere tucked away where she had never even thought about it before. An old memory, one from when she was _very_ young. She let her mind drift, let her magic grasp onto it. "But- my father had mentioned an old friend named Erik. He'd sounded strange when he had said it, now that I think of it."

Peter glanced at her, something unreadable in his gaze. "My mother said something similar, when I was younger." And Erik had turned out to be his father. That was what he didn't say, that was what he kept to himself. 

But that wasn't possible, not here, not in this universe.

Her father's name was Oleg, her mother's name was Iryna. They had been her parents, they had loved and cared for her and Pietro until the day they died. She had never had any reason to believe otherwise (until now). 

Wanda shook her head, "Come, let us find a food stand. Sokovian food is the best in the world, I promise you." 

Peter grinned, allowing her to pull him away. He didn't push her, not on this. It was a conversation for another day, a thought to be dealt with later. "I'll hold you to that promise, Wanda. I'm starving!" 

"You're always starving." 

He laughed, patting his stomach. "Blame it on the mutation."

Neither of them looked back as they turned a corner, as they left the old district behind them. They didn't speak about the strange memory, the man her father had mentioned, the one her mother had hated. It didn't matter. Not today, at least. 

"I blame it on your bottomless stomach," quipped Wanda.

"Would you believe me if I said you weren't the only person to tell me that?"

"Yes." 

"Hey!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? Sneaky easter egg? What am I implying? Who knows? *coughs*
> 
> Anyway, THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING! And to everyone that is commenting you guys are amazing, I read every one and it always makes me smile like a dork so thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter brings back an unexpected item from his travels, Wanda isn't exactly happy about it (but maybe for him, she would let it go).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. I have a planned ending, I can rest easy now. This is a bit of a shorter chapter, but I promise I'll update again tomorrow right on schedule! Thanks for reading and thanks for all your support! You guys really are the best!

"What is this?" asked Wanda, incredulously. 

Peter ran from one side of the ping pong table to the next, playing a game with himself. He was fast, she knew that, but that didn't explain how he had managed to run with something of that size, how he had even managed to get it in the house without her noticing. 

He didn't look at her, too focused on his game to pay her any attention. "Ping pong? Surely you have that in Sokovia?" Peter shook his head, "Took it from some rich guy's house in Germany." 

"Peter-"

"No one saw me, even if the guy had cameras they wouldn't have been able to see me." 

"And the table? They wouldn't see that?" They had spoken about this, about being careful. She didn't want an army on her doorstep, she could deal with it, but that didn't mean she wanted too. It had been half a year, and Peter had been growing more restless by the day. He hadn't been able to find anymore information on mutants, or at least people he knew to be mutants. Wanda hadn't been able to find the link to his home again, and he hadn't been able to concentrate enough to help. 

It was easier for Wanda, she had goals, she had a purpose. She wanted to find a way for Peter to get home, she wanted to find her boys, bring them back. Peter wanted those things too, but he couldn't help her achieve them. He could do little else but run around the world, a blur to anyone else that would see him. 

He had even gone looking for his father. Germany was his most often port of call, in his frustration that was probably how he'd ended up with the table. There had been dead end after dead end, it wasn't an easy task to trace people through the Holocaust, to find someone that may or may not have existed. It was even harder tracing those that might have played a part in it all, that might have covered up an anomaly. An anomaly like a boy tearing fences apart with his mind, a boy being different and strange. 

If that had even happened in this universe. 

"Want to play?" asked Peter. If he was annoyed, if he was frustrated, he didn't say anything. He didn't ask her for help, Wanda suspected he didn't want too, that he thought he was relying on her enough. 

But she might have been able to do _something_ , she might have been able to find someone that could, if he had just asked. Steve might have gone back to the past, but there was still one other that had lived through the war and if anyone knew about experiments, it would be him. That was assuming he spoke to her, or could even get in contact with him in the first place. Last Wanda had heard, Bucky Barnes had gone off the grid after Steve had stayed in the past. 

Still, she could have tried.

Wanda held a hand up, her magic sparking to life, levitating the paddle in front of the table. Peter rolled his eyes, "Show off." 

"You were just playing a game with yourself, you can't talk," said Wanda. 

If she was going to play games, the least she could do was practice her magic at the same time. It would be good for her fine control, anyway. Besides, she would need all the help she could get if she wanted to beat Peter. How was she supposed to get anything past him without magic? 

"Ready?" said Peter.

Wanda nodded, "Serve." 

If he didn't want her help with this, with tracking down his own kind (if they existed) that was okay. Wanda knew that there were some things they just had to do on their own, but if he needed the distraction instead, if Peter was looking for something occupy his mind in the meantime, well, Wanda could give him that. 

She created an illusion of the ball, sent ten of them his way. Peter hit every single one, including the real one. Wanda swore under her breath as the ball shot past her, bouncing off the wall. 

"1-nil," said Peter. 

Wanda rolled his eyes, "Just serve the ball." 

"If you say so, sis." 

Wanda didn't even see the ball go past her this time, and she tried not to look at her space-brother's smug face across the table from her. This was for him, she told herself. Over and over again, as every ball sailed past her. Her eyes flashed red.

"Hey now," said Peter, holding his hands up. "Don't get angry, it's not my fault I'm so much better at ping-pong." 

She glared at him, creating another two paddles from nothing. "It's my serve." 

The table didn't survive very long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes I might have missed! I know this was a bit of a filler, but I just wanted to write something of them just living together, you know? Also can you tell I resent how Cap's story came to an end (serious timeline and multiverse issues aside). Like come on, he had a soul mate, at least take Bucky with you. Or not, just stay, that would have been better. Go retire to some farm somewhere that no one can contact you. There, done. Anyways, I digress, thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, you guys are the best! Sorry for any mistakes, I'm not the best editor in the world, I go too fast.


End file.
